


Shoppin'

by canicallyoumaddie



Series: Give Shance a chance [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Ass-grabs, Domestic, Domestic Bliss, Flirts, Fluffy Shance, Grocery Shopping, M/M, One Shot, Soft Boys, shance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-05 21:38:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13396758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canicallyoumaddie/pseuds/canicallyoumaddie
Summary: Shiro and Lance are making fancy dinner, and need groceries, so naturally there's ass-grabbing in the grocery store.





	Shoppin'

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there, so this is the first Shance I've literally ever written, and I know it's just a silly domestic fic but you know, it's my brand ;o; I hope you enjoy it, this is the first time I've written Shiro and I tried my best! <3 if you enjoy it pls leave comments and kudos! Thanks for reading!
> 
> (A thank you also to princedeadend for looking this over for me!)

The grocery cart’s wheel squeaks as Lance rides it down the aisle. Shiro walks close behind, ready to catch him should his foot slip off the cart and subsequently tumble onto the ground. (It wouldn’t be the first time.)

 

“So we’re _really_ making paella?” Shiro asks, looking around for a bag of rice to add to their building pile of ingredients. “You’re taking my joke seriously?”

 

“Yes, because _you_ thought I couldn’t make it!” Lance says over his shoulder as he uses one foot to glide to a stop. “So we’re making it.”

 

“Lance, you know I didn’t–“ Shiro stops himself when he sees the shit-eating grin on Lance’s face. “Oh, ha-ha.”

 

“Don’t worry so much. I realized a while ago you’re easily impressed.” Lance blows a kiss over his shoulder and resumes his glide down the grain aisle. When they reach the end, they turn in tandem into the spice aisle, where most of the more specific items on their list are located.

 

Shiro checks something on his phone while Lance looks for the saffron and rosemary, and looks up when he hears small grunts of effort. Lance is trying to hop up enough to reach the highest shelf, but he’s _just_ missing it. The look of frustration on his face is adorable.

 

“Shiro,” Lance whines, “help me.” Lance has a pout on his face that reminds Shiro of one of Lance’s baby nieces and it almost makes him laugh outright. Lance points up at the little bottle on the top shelf—the target—and says, “Can you gra-aAHH!” He squeals when Shiro, rather than grabbing the spice himself, bodily lifts Lance into the air.

 

“There,” Shiro says, with hardly any effort, “now _you_ can grab it.”

 

Lance does, and allows himself to be slowly lowered into Shiro’s arms. With his free hand, he shamelessly gropes a bicep. “So this is why you work out so much, huh?”

 

“Aside from trying to stay fit? Yeah, sure—gotta be able to pick up my boyfriend.”

 

Lance laughs and rolls his eyes, gently places the saffron with the rosemary in the cart, and looks again at their extensive list of items. Shiro snakes an arm around his waist and tugs him a little closer so he can see, too. Blue lines of ink have crossed out several of the items, and it looks like their last stop is at the butcher’s area.

 

Shiro doesn’t let go as they begin their walk to the other end of the store, and the pair bumps hips several times on the way, which makes Lance giggle.

 

“Shiro, stop,” Lance says. He drags out the word like a bratty teenager, but Shiro has seen him play this game many times before. Shiro does as he’s told, retracting his arm...but the minute he lets go, Lance grabs his hand and brings it back around his waist. “Wait, no, come back.”

 

Shiro chuckles and presses a kiss to Lance’s temple. “You’re so fickle.” His voice rumbles in Lance’s ear, making him shiver just a little.

 

In an attempt at nonchalance, Lance’s back straightens and he replies, “You love it.” He doesn’t know why he didn’t expect the responding look in Shiro’s eyes to make him want to melt into the floor.

 

Lance’s mouth opens and closes like a fish desperate for air, but he manages to splutter, “L-Let’s go ahead and get the meat, and head home.” Everything he says sounds like an accidental double entendre, and one look on Shiro’s face makes it clear the subtle double meaning wasn’t lost on him either.

 

Lance points a long finger at Shiro and says with a warning tone, “Don’t _even_.”

 

Shiro throws up his hands. “I didn’t say anything!”

 

“I saw the look on your face—paella takes a while to make and we are not getting started late because you wanted to do...stuff.”

 

“I didn’t say a single thing, and you know it. I think you’re projecting.” Shiro’s voice is laced with an unreleased laugh. Lance may be the one who’s more shameless in public, but that doesn’t mean that Shiro’s got any shame at home. “Besides, you were the one doing the arm groping,” he adds, pinching Lance’s arm as he walks by him and toward the counter.

 

“I’ll be getting you back for that,” Lance mutters under his breath, just softly enough that Shiro couldn’t hear. When Shiro turns back around, he smiles like the completely innocent man he is. (He’s not.)

 

They’ve got a little distance from the counter to the checkout, so Lance decides to walk just a _little_ faster than normal so Shiro has to chase him through the aisles. Mind you, it’s not rowdy enough that someone will _complain_ , but it’s just enough to make Lance’s heart race (and not from the light running.)

 

They get close to the checkout, and Lance feels a tug on his arm, prompting him to stay in the aisle, rather than going out into the open. He finds himself once again tucked into those huge arms. God, he loves those arms. They could literally break him in half, but they won’t, because they love him. He smirks and reaches around for a generous and not-subtle ass-grab that makes Shiro jump.

 

“Ha, gotcha,” Lance says, sticking his tongue out playfully. “Point one, Lancey Lance.”

 

Shiro gets close to his ear to kiss his temple and replies, “That’s cheating, I wasn’t ready.”

 

Lance pulls back to wink at him and skip out of the aisle. “Well, then, I’ll have to make up for it at home, then.”

 

Shiro grins at him, following behind with the cart. “I thought you said that paella takes a while to make, and we can’t get started late.”

 

“Well, yes, but I never said we couldn’t do anything _while_ the paella is _cooking_.” Lance threw him a lecherous grin that the cashier _mercifully_ didn’t see.

 

“Uh-huh.”

 

After checking out, the couple walks out the door in step. Shiro smiles as he listens to Lance chatter about the details of what they were about to make for dinner. Lance’s enthusiasm was infectious, but really, it was nice to just be able to spend time together. And if they got to have a little more _fun_ than usual, well…that’s a plus, too.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Me: Let's write a new ship!  
> Also me: Let's write in a different tense!  
> My brain: Wait this may go horribly wrong.


End file.
